“And Lara and I stopped seeing each other.”
“Oh. You didn’t tell me,” I say, trying not to sound hurt. “How’d she take it?” George is always the heartbreaker, never the broken. It’s understandable why he’s the first to jump ship: his childhood left him with a deeply rooted fear of abandonment. Not that I’m one to talk.
He studies me for a moment. “Not well. But it was a couple of months ago. I’m sure she’s moved on.”
I doubt it.
“I hear Avery Harper-Klyne is single,” I say, and George laughs softly. We went to grade school with Avery, and she’s a running joke in our friendship. Poor woman.
“The entire northern hemisphere has heard that Avery’s single,” he says. She wrote about her divorce in a nineteen-paragraph treatise she shared across multiple platforms.
I smile, and George smiles back at me, and it feels like listening to a familiar melody. But then his grin falters.
“Somethingiswrong. Tell me.”
“You’re getting married,” he says.
I frown. “And you’re just realizing this?”
“I think it’s only sinking in now.”
I squeeze his hand, and his steps slow.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he murmurs. “It doesn’t feel like that long ago that we were hiding in the cupboard in the library, arguing about what to put at the center of our labyrinth.”
“A fountain,” I say.
“A secret garden,” he replies.
The debate is canon.
George studies me closely. “You’re happy, Frankie? Really, truly happy?”
My heart catches, and I grin at him.
“I am, George. I promise.”
He gives me the slightest nod, and I can tell he trusts my answer. Promises are important to us. “A promise for a promise?” I ask. It’s a game we used to play. I’ve given him one, and I want one in return.
“Sure,” he says.
“Promise me you’re happy, too?” He’s worried about me, but I’m also worried about him.
It’s at that point when Nate cuts in. I look at George, waiting for him to reply.
“I promise,” he tells me, and then he steps away.
I watch him find my brothers, and I lasso my arms around my fiancé’s neck.
“I love you,” I tell him.
Nate gives me a goofy grin. “I love you, Francesca Gardiner.” Then he tips his head back and shouts, “We’re getting married!”
The room erupts in cheers.
It’s the best night of my life.
Eight hours later, everything falls apart.
